


City Lights

by daniearnest



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Artist Nico di Angelo, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, SO, Slow Burn, Someone give them a hug, but dont worry, but not so slow it makes u cry before theyve kissed, listen they both just need a hug, oh and, or you know.., someone teach me how to tag okay let's see, they could hug each other..., yes there will be nico jason percy friendship OF COURSE there will be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29766684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daniearnest/pseuds/daniearnest
Summary: “Uh… do you know when we get to the Village?”“This doesn’t exactlygoto the Village.” Nico could give out technical information, he could do that just fine.“Oh.”————Alternatively: Nico's life is going pretty shitty and then he meets a hot stranger crying on the subway. A story about two boys lost in New York, city of drama, dirty subway cars and tender loving
Relationships: Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	1. Lost Boys

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i do not own new york city

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hell yea bby lets go

Nico di Angelo wasn’t particularly spur-of-the-moment. Only, having anything work out was very optional for him, he’d found that out early in his chaos-ridden life, and he always had to deal with stuff with spur-of-the-moment decisions. His latest one had made it so that right now he’d rather freeze his ass off on the Met museum's front steps than go back to 210 East 124th Street.

Literally. His ass was so uncomfortably cold. Shit, he could swear this stone was actual ice, and admittedly his black skinny jeans weren’t helping much, but he was going to dress however the hell he liked, because he could. He tried to ignore the unpleasant feeling as he stared at the corner of 82nd Street.

From where he sat on the far end of the huge staircase he could barely peak into it. He could also barely feel his uncovered face and hands in the cold and Percy’s place was like five blocks away behind the tumultuous crowd rushing on the Avenue between him and the street.

A gust of wind whipped into him, pleasantly stinging his numb skin back to life. He allowed a reinvigorating shiver to run through his body and looked back down at his phone. The screen had gone black.

_Hmph._

He made his frozen fingers work, with little frenetic taps, through his pin code – 1-7-1-2 – then failed to properly touch the contacts icon twice, held his breath, managed, released it. This March weather was beginning to get on his nerves.

There weren’t a whole lot of contacts. However he was looking for someone who was not too busy, not too nosy, and certainly not overprotective, so he still scanned through them for a while, because he’d never watched _Mission: Impossible_ but he was pretty sure the mission had been easier than this.

Eventually he tapped one of the names, just barely, and in a swift motion he brought the phone up to his ear.

It rang once. In a surge of desperate hope, Nico turned his head to look up at the Met and its glorious columns towering over him, and wondered if he could pray to it. The phone rang again.

 _Come on_.

The other end picked up.

“What’s up? Did you get the job?” Percy’s energetic voice came on the line.

Nico let out the smallest sigh of relief. “Hey. Yeah, I got it. Done with classes yet?”

“Nice, man!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m washing dishes, don’t get hyped up. You didn’t answer the question.”

“Nah, not nearly done, sigh.” He actually said _sigh_ out loud. “Why?”

Of course. He should’ve known better than to think things were going his way.

“Nevermind. Bye.”

“Why?” Percy repeated and Nico was unsure as to what part of _bye_ had been unclear, so he judged it was his right to tweak the truth to get out of this fast.

“Just thought we could hang out.”

“No lie? Yesterday you said you’d have to stay home for– _oh_ , oh, man. You ran away again, _that’s_ what’s up.”

Hmph. Dramatic.

“ _No_ , I just left and won’t be returning for as long as I can manage,” he corrected. He was willing to get scolded by someone like Annabeth. He was most definitely not getting scolded by _Percy_ _Jackson_.

“Please tell me your stepmom is home with Hazel at least.”

Marie Levesque was probably out again but honestly Hazel would be better off without that woman acting batshit around the house.

“Look, I didn’t call for you to act like my m– …babysitter.” Now he was just frustrated.

“I’m so done,” Percy sighed, properly this time. Nico heard a missing _with you_. “Go to Jason’s.”

Jason would have actually been his first choice, unfortunately he did not fit the most fundamental criteria, which was _not too busy_.

“Can’t, Piper is there probably making out with his stupid face right now.” He pinched his nose even though Percy couldn’t see. “Listen, you don’t have to… do this. It’s no big deal, I’ll manage, alright? I’m hanging up now.”

“Just go to my place, my mom’s home.”

This did seem like a good idea. The only thing was, he didn’t want to bother Sally Jackson – god bless her – more than necessary. He slept at her place often enough to have his own toothbrush there, so his already low tolerance to discomfort was pushed to its limits. Also he was not rude. At some point he’d decided he would only go when Percy was there.

“Okay. Thanks. I’ll wait for you, though. Bye.”

“Later, man.”

Fucking great. A few more hours of struggling to keep his undisciplined thoughts busy and his hyperactivity at bay. Plus at this point the biting cold was just plain unbearable. God was it hard not to get lonely during the day when your friends were in college but _you_ went straight to working after high school.

Nico pushed himself off the grand staircase, bitterly thrust his hand and phone into the pocket of his oversized aviator jacket, and went past the Met and into Central Park.

As he strolled around his temper went down a bit. The first signs of spring in the discreet leaf buds caught his eye, small but promising. It wasn’t until a surge of anxiety washed off his smile that he noticed it had been there in the first place, but now his brain was already focusing on the wrong things despite him. Spring already? He couldn’t remember what he’d been doing for, like, the past six months. Waste of life.

In a distressed effort to brush that thought away he settled on a bench, took out a worn out pencil and a small notebook out his pockets and focused on sketching some plants growing next to a bench across from him. He’d been told before that he drew amazingly well. He thought he was okay at it. Drawing kept him busy. And it allowed him to pick the beautiful things apart from this grey grey world.

When his hands started to get cold again he sighed, exasperated, and looked up at the people passing by.

Big mistake. Huge.

First he saw a little girl with her parents, then he saw a jogger, and then Nico’s breath caught short in his throat.

The next person that came into his view was… well, let’s just say many pretty boys were always walking the streets of the Upper East Side, but this guy looked – how to describe him? He had the poised face of a Greek hero, he looked straight out of a Renaissance painting, he was prettier than Antinous and more handsome than Achilles and Nico didn’t even know what _he_ looked like, and he was also sporting the ugliest teal puffer coat Nico had ever seen and he had hair so honey blond and delicately wavy – _almost_ curly– it would make Apollo, god of the Sun, jealous. He plopped down on the bench right across his.

_Stop staring._

Nico made his eyes dart down at his notebook and pretended to be absorbed by the stick figure with a smiley face he had now started to carefully trace.

Jesus fuck, what had got into him? This guy– Nico had never seen anyone so beautiful in forever. He had to do something about it, or else he’d regret it so bad.

His hand stopped. He kept his head down so he could discreetly glance up again.

The guy sat nonchalantly. His ugly yellow socks matched his ugly yellow sweater and did not match his beige pants at _all_. Hell, it was all so bad. He looked so good. He was looking around, it was perfect.

Nico slowly turned the page, glanced up at the sunny guy one more time, focused, and started smoothly sketching his ideal Greek features out on the blank space, turning him into an art subject more than anything. Actually, the more he worked on it the more he realized he’d been wrong. No, this guy didn’t look like Achilles, he was warmer. He didn’t look like Apollo, he was softer. Who _was_ he? But as he tried to get another glimpse of him softer-than-Apollo stood up.

Nico watched him go over to a girl that seemed she had just barged in out of nowhere, smile, and give her a peck on the lips, to which she chuckled. He put his hand around her shoulder and they walked away.

It was at this point he decided he’d had enough of this damned cold for the day. He cursed the weather under his breath as genuinely as he could, jumped up and took the direction opposite to theirs.

* * *

_Yesterday 4:38PM_

_to: Percy_

_Nvm I'm going home_

The phone clock above read _2_ _:18AM_ and Nico obviously wasn’t home.

After riding all over New York’s subway, back and forth, and all around again, sketching cool graffiti to fill the time, he’d got off when it was late enough for him to be alone in the streets, at least here, far from Manhattan, near the northern border of the Bronx – in the flat suburbs part of town that felt like any random city.

The phone flashed off as Nico kept roaming like a shadow around the empty streets.

He enjoyed these nocturnal getaways because they gave him the thrill and elevation of walking through unknown places, unperceived. Here and there, faint signs of human life behind windows, like little silent films inside framed squares of light, and outside, in the dead of night, the feeling of being alive.

Sometimes he’d feel like the world was all his, other times he’d feel empty, and it was just as good.

Here he could run, jump for no reason other than feeling cool, or lie down in the middle of the large asphalt road for hours and graze over the immortal stars with his fingertips; maybe believe, sometimes, that one among them was Bianca, pick the one he thought she was, always a different one, then smile sadly, get up and jump again– he could do all that with the comfort and certitude that no one would ever know, except for the breeze caressing his hair, the heavy glow from the lamp posts, and the reassuring darkness that surrounded it.

The night quietly rustled to him and he was glad to answer with silence, knowing it was enough. The night didn’t care about what was wrong with him. It kept him company, allowed him to feel like he wasn’t alone.

Sometimes he wouldn’t have it any other way, other times it just wouldn’t do, and the unrecoverable presence that Bianca had taken with her hit him with all its reality and the world was submerged in a harrowing emptiness.

The night still didn’t care, it kept rustling. It was cruel, but in some moments, thinking that it was rustling for him would make him feel at peace, so Nico kept roaming like a shadow around the empty streets.

Until the sun would rise.

It wasn’t the sun he hated so much, it was the relentless, unforgiving city that woke up along with it. Tomorrow he’d have to show up at this new job. Which made a familiar thought assail him in the midst of his precious night venture. Of course anything that was dear to him could only last so long before a disturbance would ruin everything.

This idea, the same one as always when streetlights caught him wandering on the edge of town.

How easy it would be to leave.

It had taken him months to understand he’d never done it because he was afraid, and several more weeks to understand what he was afraid of: if he actually left, he’d never want to return. So what _if_ he never came back? Fuck his job, fuck his crazy stepmother, fuck the art school he’d never afford and the young Greek hero he’d never see again. If it wasn’t for Hazel, and Percy and Jason, he’d have lit the hell out long ago. This had never been about him and would never be. Unless he left.

_I’m sick of this._

Feeling nauseated by the smoke of possibilities,as always, Nico forced himself to turn back before he made a big mistake, and he let his phone guide him out this stranger neighborhood to Pelham Bay Park station from where he hopped on the empty 6 train and began apathetically staring at the night time scenery as it slid by.

He _could_ crash at Jason’s place. Or maybe it was too late now. Whatever.

Station after station the doors would open and close and Nico remained alone as expected.

At the fifteenth station, the door (which he couldn’t quite see on account that it was a bit behind him) slid open with its usual low hiss followed by a thud. This time he heard messy footsteps tumbling in. Heavy, shaky breathing and someone plopping down on a seat right next to him, but with their back turned to him so they couldn’t have noticed he was there. There was sobbing so quiet he could barely hear it. Now Nico couldn’t really move, otherwise it’d make things awkward, but he wasn’t especially concerned with this newcomer. Down here in the New York underground everything fell under the realm of the sketchy folks. Still, he furtively glanced over, out of curiosity, only to see tints of an ugly teal coat and a mop of hair that had kept its golden blond warm shine even under the sickly pale subway lighting, and he instantly looked right back in front of him – _ohgodohgodohgod –_ and froze for good. That was it, he would never move again, he’d stay in this dirty subway till it carried him to hell.

  
  


_This is a Brooklyn Bridge bound, six, local, train. The next, stop, is, 3 rd Avenue, 138th, Street._

_Stand clear of the closing doors please!_

_Ding-dong._

The doors closed on both of them and the train moved again.

  
  


Nico managed to stay still despite his racing heart, and he sure intended on staying that way until the guy was gone. So he had to listen to him cry for approximately _too fucking long_. Until, because _of course_ there always came an _until,_ the guy turned his head around and up towards… what was he looking for? At any rate, what matters is that he saw Nico, and Nico couldn’t help but glance at him on instinct and when their eyes met the guy started just a bit with a tiny gasp – was that cute or dramatic? Probably both. Then he fully turned to Nico, who wasn’t the best at handling any social situation more demanding than being professional or talking to friends in the first place, so now _this_? So he just waited for him to say something like _sorry_ and then he would answer _sorry_ and that would be it.

Instead the stranger laughed – how _dare_ he – he laughed faintly and said:

“I’m sorry, I didn’t, uh…”

And his voice, his warm and calm and steady voice, even though he had been _sobbing_ seconds ago, for fuck’s sake– his voice trailed off. Oh, and he kept looking at Nico.

_This_ _,_ _is, 3_ _rd_ _Avenue, 138_ _th_ _, Street._

 _This_ _is a_ _Brooklyn Bridge_ _bound, six, local, train. The next, stop, is,_ _125_ _th_ _, Street._

_Ding-dong._

Nico thought the guy would eye him like he was a weirdo, riding this late with probably suspicious dark shadows under his eyes.

Yet he didn’t.

Then he realized he was actually looking at him like he hadn’t answered, which was precisely what was happening, so he said (and suddenly he felt self-conscious about his own voice):

“Yeah.”

Realized that made no sense and tried again:

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

And normally he’d have considered a stranger’s problems to be none of his fucking business, but oddly enough he felt bad.

“You okay?”

Of course he wasn’t okay. _God, wh_ _y am I being so_ _stupid_ _?_ Well probably because the guy still looked breath-fucking-taking, and probably because now he wasn’t just a model for his drawings anymore but a very real person that was crying. Probably.

In fact he sniffled just then as if to confirm.

“Yeah. I mean, no.” He snorted. “But, ah, I’ll be fine,” he added as if to reassure him, _as if_ Nico was the one who needed reassuring, and God knows how, he managed a pretty smile.

Then he looked up as he did when he’d first turned around. Nico saw tears softly glisten in his eyes and on his cheeks as he glanced around confused. Then he turned to him again, which unsettled him a bit.

“Uh… do you know when we get to the Village?”

“This doesn’t exactly _go_ to the Village.” Nico could give out technical information, he could do that just fine.

“Oh.”

Oh.

He’d been looking for some sort of map.

This guy was _lost._

If Nico wanted to go home and be able to get some sleep that night he needed to get off at the next station.

The Village guy looked down, then up again, and stared at an empty space next to Nico’s head.

He had freckles.

He wiped his tears off in one single sleeve swipe. His face had gone back to normal surprisingly fast. He almost looked like nothing ever happened, but Nico knew too well what hurt looked like.

_This,_ _is,_ _125_ _th_ _, Street._

He tried to get up but his body felt like it was made out of lead all of a sudden.

 _This_ _is a_ _Brooklyn Bridge_ _bound, six, local, train. The next, stop, is,_ _1_ _16_ _th_ _, Street._

Get the fuck up, di Angelo.

_Ding-dong._

The doors closed and the train moved again.

“You can, uh, you can go to Grand Station and walk to… the 1 Line probably. Or you know, you could just take the 7 Train for that. Whichever.”

“Oh, thanks,” the guy replied, and the small smile he gave made Nico feel light.

“… you sure you know how to do that?”

“Yes.”

Silence. The guy sighed at last.

“Okay, no, I didn’t get a word you said.” He shook his head looking desperate, which made his hair sway ever so slightly. “I’m totally lost.”

“No shit,” Nico blurted out and regretted it immediately but the other guy just quietly laughed again. Maybe he was just that dense, but that laugh made it feel like it was alright, like there was nothing he had to apologize for. He figured he’d just go on before he could overthink it.

“You need to ride for, like, twenty more minutes.”

He stopped again when he thought about how he’d have to explain the New York subway system to a guy who didn’t even seem to know which line he was on. Normally he would just have found an easy and efficient way to do it, but right then, as if under the influence of some superior power that came and went within the blink of an eye, he made a move so bold coming from him he would never be able to understand it later.

“I could take you,” he offered. “I’m not going far off.”

But then the guy’s face lit up, and any regret Nico could’ve have dissipated before it could even form.

“You’d do that for me?”

“Sure.” And before the stranger guy could say anything else that would make him blush for sure this time, he added: “Do you know which station you’re supposed to go to?”

“You think I can get to 14th Street from here?”

He’d asked like it was impossible. That was cute. Nico smiled.

“Sure.”

And he had no idea or recollection of how they did it but they rode to Grand Station together and walked down 42nd Street, which was still crowded with tourists even at three A.M. Maybe they'd exchanged a few meaningless words, he didn't recall what it was exactly. What he could remember was that the Village guy acted more like the tourists than like him as they walked. He also knew that by now he was back to feeling relaxed himself, and not so stressed out anymore from being around an attractive stranger he’d just seen cry, since now at least he’d proven to be just some guy lost in New York.

 _And he’s nice,_ _too,_ his mind supplied. _Maybe cute also._ _Like a cat_ _._

Fortunately he was able to make his mind shut the fuck up as they’d just arrived at the subway entrance. But the guy didn’t go in like he was supposed to. Why did he never do what he was supposed to? Instead he stood in front of Nico and stared for five hot seconds, maybe squinting just a bit, but it was hard to tell from how slight it was. Before Nico could ask him what his deal was he raised his eyebrows like a light bulb had just popped up above his head.

“Hey,” he casually gave him a finger gun and a boyish smile that made his heart skip a beat. “You’re the guy from Central Park. Saw you at, like, noon.”

 _It was_ _four_ _P_ _M._ _Don’t you even_ _know_ _at what time you met up with your girlfriend?_

“Sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I saw you at Central Park today, you were sitting on a bench in front of me. I think you were writing down some stuff on a notebook,” he explained assuredly, looking him in the eyes. His features were definitely soft.

“You must be mistaken.”

“Uh… are you sure? Because _I_ ’m pretty sure it was you. You even looked at me, remember?”

Fuck, was he dense or just _so rude?_ This guy had no fucking business going around doing everything he wasn't expected to and saying shit like that to embarrass him.

“Piss off.”

The guy didn’t flinch, he just looked confused. On the other hand, a burst of shame instantly supplanted Nico’s anger, and as he felt heat rise to his face he heard himself mumble something pathetic like _sorry_ _bye_ _,_ and started walking off so fast he almost tripped.

“Hey, thanks!” he heard the guy yell behind him.

He walked faster. _Don’t yell in the street,_ _it’s ridiculous_ _._ He could picture his beaming smile way too clearly and this time he was glad the guy was just a stranger he’d never see again, or so he tried to tell the warm feeling that lingered in his chest for the rest of the night even after the embarrassment was gone.


	2. You know I will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey wanna watch me overdevelop the subplot *winks*
> 
> oh yeah also i took two lines of dialogue from rick cause his writing is perfect and dialogue is my worst enemy

“Get a move on, cupcakes! And put some heart in it!”

Nico groaned and scrubbed faster.

The exhaustion from pulling an all-nighter had caught up with him in the morning, which made this Hedge guy even more insufferable to have as a boss. He should’ve known from the moment during the job interview when he’d said he was eighteen and Hedge had answered _“Perfect age for dishwashing! You’re_ _in_ _, buddy. Call me coach!”_

But after he’d got fired from four different jobs in eight months (due to _excessive defiance of_ _authority,_ or so he had been told, but that time he’d told his boss to fuck off had merely been a misunderstanding so clearly it was homophobia), and considering how difficult it was to actually have someone hire you when you were eighteen and dressed like a punk, Nico didn’t really have the luxury to turn it down.

He was the only goddamn one able to properly provide for his inferno household after their father had abandoned them with some money –which had only been to alleviate his sinful conscience, no doubt– and Marie Levesque had spent in just a few months on stuff that made Nico feel so disgusting he couldn’t even bear to mention it.

Curse the money. Marie Levesque worshiped it and it had driven her mad. That crazy woman wanted Hazel to start working right after she would graduate from high school next year, and he would _not_ have that. He would not let Hazel have the same miserable fate as him. So he’d decided _he_ would get the damned money, and let her be.

“Quicker! Or I’ll– I’ll chew you up!”

He scowled and suppressed another groan.

After the busy lunch hours, when the kitchen had fallen calm again and everyone was going around tired, Nico put away his apron with a weary sigh, and slipped his trusty aviator jacket back on. If a genie could grant him three wishes right now he’d ask for sleep, sleep, and sleep.

“Hey, kid.”

 _God, what now?_ Nico turned around to see Hedge standing close to him. He didn’t care about being told off, he just hoped it would be quick.

“You look exhausted. Here.” He handed him a blue energy drink bottle. “Have some Gatorade.”

“I– I don’t want–”

“You’ll have some Gatorade,” Hedge insisted.

Nico had some Gatorade. It was cool and tasted like chemical raspberry, and much to his surprise it made his brain spark up.

Hedge gave him a tap on the shoulder and he stumbled a little.

“Good first day, cupcake! See you tomorrow.”

“Uh, thanks, coach.”

Still a bit confused about what Hedge had just done, he finally hurried out the back door into the alleyway. Though once he was striding down First Avenue all that mattered to him was getting to somewhere warm that contained any surface he could pass out on, and fast.

At last he found himself standing before the Jacksons’ open apartment door, Percy gesturing for him to come inside.

By now the vague sting of jealousy that tugged at his heart every time he crossed the threshold had become familiar, but then, as soon as he sat on the couch, the energy he got from walking gave way to a heavy wave of fatigue, and he couldn’t afford to be envious of anything other than a sloth anymore.

Percy dropped down on the other end of the couch.

“Sup,” he offered.

Nico shrugged loosely and deemed that was good enough an answer.

“So you went home?”

“Yeah,” his voice came out weaker than intended.

Percy studied him suspiciously and he fixed him back with the look he gave people when he couldn’t be bothered to say _you better_ _drop it_ out loud, although he was so tired he wasn’t sure it was working right now. Plus Percy was kinda used to it.

“I don’t think you did,” he concluded.

Whatever. Nico’s eyelids were heavy, so heavy. He gave up.

“’M gonna sleep,” he mumbled as he stood up drowsily, somehow managed to reach Percy’s room, and collapsed on his soft, blue sheets.

At first he wasn’t aware he was dreaming. He saw a dull, deserted beachfront and heard Jason call his name. When he turned around Jason turned out to be Percy. Disappointing. They rode a bus to downtown. On the bus he sat next to a stranger with blond hair whose presence was comforting, but he wasn’t Jason.

They were standing in a meadow, still in Manhattan somehow, and Percy told him he was very stressed out. He asked him why. Percy replied that he had to play a piece by Edgar Allan Poe for a piano audition but hadn’t practiced enough. Nico felt something was off. He realized Edgar Allan Poe wasn’t a composer so then he knew it was a dream, but it went on for a bit longer.

He had to run through narrow, ill-lit tunnels. There was a monster coming towards him so he hid in the dark and when it went past him and disappeared he ran again. He reached his high school gym. The fire alarm went off.

Nico stirred and realized the sound was coming from the phone Percy was holding up to his ear.

“Stop!”

“You’re impossible to wake up.” He vaguely saw Percy make his way out of the room. “Rise and shine and, uh, don’t crash on my bed next time.”

Nico found out he felt fairly alert as he got up. He took a shower that was as good as a shower can get, letting the water flow over his skin for some time and wash away some of the misery, before he joined Percy who was doing homework in the living room.

The Jackons’ apartment wasn’t very big but it was one of the coziest places Nico could think of. It was mostly open plan, so you could see the kitchen from the living room, and the color scheme was summery and soft. The windows were large and let the dying afternoon light in. This main area was a place where it seemed to Nico things could only be alright.

Everything there, from the squashy blue couch to the coffee table on which he could see remains of an afternoon snack, was trying to make him feel welcomed, and he could almost have believed it if it weren’t for the doors to the rooms, which were closed, serving to him as the painful but necessary reminder that this was not his home.

Later in the evening Sally got home. She looked happy to see them both. They all had dinner together in the snug little kitchen as night fell on the other side of the window, and more than ever, the Jacksons’ apartment felt like a quiet enclave within the city life havoc. Nico silently picked at his food as he enjoyed listening to Sally and Percy talk about their days. He chimed in a few times to answer some questions Sally asked him – how he was, how Hazel was doing, if he’d been working on new art projects lately. Nico didn’t think Marie Levesque even knew he liked to draw.

After the table was cleaned up Sally said she was going to sleep. Nico watched Percy give her a kiss on the cheek and he made an effort to shut out everything from his heart that wasn’t blood.

Then they went back to lazying around on their phones but it wasn’t long before they both grew bored of it and casually looked at each other from where they were slouching on the couch. Something was softly buzzing somewhere.

“Annabeth asked about you after you called yesterday,” Percy eventually said.

Nico kept looking at him, hoping for further explanation.

“Where have you been?” was what he got instead.

This time he wasn’t left with much of a choice but to answer truthfully. He hesitated.

“Out.”

Percy hummed. Nico dared to hope once more. He hoped Percy was satisfied.

“So how’s the new job?”

“My boss is _impossible_ _,_ ” he gladly complained, thankful for the opportunity to change the subject. “He’s so small but he’s all worked up and calls everyone cupcake _._ It’s like he’s constantly hungry and this is his only outlet before he can have lunch. Or desert, I guess.”

Percy laughed. Sometimes he could be oblivious but above all he was a good friend.

“I think I could pay for someone to scream cupcake at me for five hours.”

“Every day?”

“Okay, maybe not.”

“More likely _he’_ d pay you–” Nico pointed his index at him “–to scream that at you. He’s doing it for me already.”

“I don’t think that’s what you’re paid for, but okay,” Percy nodded in acceptance.

They kept chatting awhile and, just for a moment, Nico let himself feel like he belonged in this scenery.

When Percy said he had to go sleep because he had morning classes they both went to his room and set up the mattress that was stored for Nico underneath the bed.

As they lay in the dark his dream came back to him.

“Hey?”

Percy hummed.

“You ever thought about playing the piano?”

Percy hummed again. Whether this had meant _yes_ or _no_ would remain undecided. After that he didn’t make any more sound.

Nico stayed awake for what felt like minutes, stretching into hours.

He grabbed his phone eventually, and it seemed to disagree since it told him it wasn’t even midnight yet.

He sighed.

He took the damn phone with him and went to the bathroom.

After he locked the door he slid his back down against the wall until he was sitting curled up on the cold tiled floor, resting his chin on his knees and hugging his legs. He called Hazel, without really knowing if he wanted to reassure her or because he needed her to reassure him. The phone barely rang once.

“Hello?”

Hearing her gentle voice made him smile. He let his legs slide down a bit.

“Hey. How are you doing?” he asked calmly.

“Are you in trouble? Why are you whispering?”

“No, no, I’m at Percy’s and everyone’s asleep. Are you okay?”

He heard a sigh.

“I guess I am.”

Nico felt a twinge of guilt in his chest. He spoke carefully, as if his words could make Hazel’s voice shatter away. He was so afraid they would.

“Did Marie say anything?”

“Don’t play with me, Nico, you know she doesn’t care. Just tell me what it is you wanna know, really.”

“You’re tough, you know that?” he chuckled nervously then his voice dropped again. “Sorry, it’s just… I just wanna know if she did anything to you while I was gone.”

It wasn’t physical violence he was talking about, Marie Levesque never raised a hand against anyone. But she would say things so horrible it made you want to cry and cry.

“You’re still gone,” Hazel said, tone more sorry than accusatory.

She had a point. He couldn’t just disappear and expect her not to blame him. He tried, he really tried to be there for her, but it was like he forgot everything all over again whenever Marie did something so infuriating and shameful he thought he could kill her, and every time he still fled the apartment, abandoning Hazel, who had to be patient enough for both of them. It was true, he was gone.

“Sorry.”

Thick, heavy silence.

Laden with all the weight of the unspoken.

Until he couldn’t bear it anymore. “Hey, look. I’ll come check on you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.” Hazel’s broken voice almost made him wish she hadn’t answered this time either.

“Okay. Sleep well. I love you. See you tomorrow.”

“Love you.”

Nico stayed alone in the cold white bathroom for a while before he went back to Percy’s room.

The next morning he woke up _on his own_ (thank you Percy) _,_ feeling refreshed, and he left the apartment with Percy who was going to school.

Piled up outside the college building was a small, sparse crowd of students hanging out before they went into one more exhausting day of classes, something they tried to put off for as long as they could and Nico envied them for. Percy made them slalom around the groups of people chatting and stop somewhere in the middle. All Nico was missing to fit in was a backpack.

“Man, I just have the worst classes today. I’m gonna call it quits before I can take another two hours of Mr. D. calling me Perry Johanson.”

“Remember I’m gonna be a cupcake for five hours.”

Percy’s face turned solemn and he seemed to think hard about something.

“Yeah, no, you were right yesterday, this is definitely terrible. I’ll keep Perry.” His face softened. “Hey, how about we go out for cupcakes with Jason this afternoon?”

“Honestly after my shift I don’t know if I’ll be able to look at another goddamn cupcake without–”

Honey blond hair, kind of lost in the crowd, but it was unmistakably him. In that moment Nico’s life just felt like a big joke. And a bad one at that.

“Without what? You good, man? Saw a ghost? Hey! What are you looking at?”

Percy turned around to where Nico’s eyes had involuntarily drifted.

Coincidentally, unavoidably– _somehow,_ the blond guy noticed Nico from where he was chatting with another boy. Their eyes met. Surprise flashed across his face, then he broke into a smile so quickly and easily it was almost scary, and gave Nico a peace sign.

Of course Percy saw that.

“You know Will Solace?”

Nico’s attention was attracted quickly, too quickly for his taste, more quickly than he’d like to admit, so quickly it could only be dangerous.

“Who?”

“You friends with Will Solace?”

_Will Solace. Will Solace. Noted. Will Solace._

“No idea who that is.”

Percy grinned.

“Oh, this is exciting, because that’s _exactly_ what a liar would say.”

Funny how that made Nico very angry very quickly. Worrying too. He wouldn’t care about being called a liar usually. But the assumption that he had anything to do this guy? Plain rude.

“Shut your mouth, Jackson. Or don’t, because you already pissed me off anyway. Have _fun_.”

And with that Nico stalked off, feeling sheepish, and left Percy complaining alone in the crowd.

“Hey, I was joking! Is this for real?” He blinked in disbelief. “Damn, never would have guessed Will Solace was gonna be the one to make me lose my friends.”

He looked at Will Solace once more, as if his friendly face could reveal to him the inner workings of what the hell had just happened.

* * *

Much scrubbing and many _Blow up that kitchen! l_ ater, Nico was back in the streets of East Harlem with yet another bottle of Gatorade that had been forcefully shoved into his hand.

East Harlem was a disaster mix of seedy and lively. It was just all over the place, and far too familiar to Nico. One street could be just all broken pavement and garbage bags laying around and next thing you knew you were walking past a sweet little restaurant with Cuban music playing and people talking loudly.Sometimes he was genuinely confused as to whether he liked it or hated it.

Right now though, he didn’t want to be there. But promises should be kept.

The closer he got to 210 East 124th Street, the slower he walked, until he inevitably reached the street, and the building next.

He stopped.

The building was a grim, shabby thing, made of rough dirty tan-colored bricks that suited the black window frames and fire escapes, in that they all worked together to form what looked like a good setting for a modern-day Gothic novel, which, to be honest, fit his life pretty well. _He_ didn’t choose the building, though.

He went in reluctantly and dragged his feet up the dreary stairs.

When he got to the second floor he faced the menacing black wooden door and couldn’t seem to walk up to it.

_I’m not scared of a door._

He made his legs get closer to what looked like the void fitted into a rectangle to him and carefully inserted his keys into the lock. He turned them. It wasn’t double locked. Someone was home.

He froze, prayed with all his might to the Met museum it was not Marie Levesque and with a wince, slowly pushed the door open, as if he expected something to blow up.

Silence.

He looked around.

The tiny living room was still. White dust particles were floating around in the thin rays of afternoon sunlight that the breaches in the closed window blinds reluctantly let in.

With a sigh, he walked to Hazel’s room and the sound of his footsteps on the creaky wood floor filled the space.

When he knocked at her door it was only two seconds before it flew open and he was greeted by a smile and a heartfelt hug. He hugged Hazel back, unable to contain a smile himself.

“How did you know it was me?” he asked into her hair.

“Ma never knocks.” She let go and looked at him, her eyes sparkly. But there was something else, a thin veil of sadness that Nico desperately wanted to lift away. “How are you?” she asked.

“I’m fine.” Or close enough, but Hazel seemed satisfied. “How was your day?”

“It was great,” she smirked. “You know, don’t be too sure yet, but I think Frank is gonna ask me out.”

“He will, you’re _irresistible_.”

“And you’re a meanie and you’re embarrassing. I hope he never meets you.”

“I was being serious!” And as much as he knew it was going to annoy her, the question burned on his lips. He lowered his voice to a near-whisper as if he was scared someone would hear. “Did she come here yesterday?”

Hazel sighed, inevitably, and rolled her eyes at him.

“Yes. But she went out again this morning.”

“What kind of fucked up shit did she say to you this time?”

This time she frowned.

“I know how horrible she can be but seriously, would you cut her some slack?”

Nico hated this habit of hers to defend her. He knew she was her mom, but he would never really understand how Hazel could be so forgiving. Sometimes he tried to think of what he’d have felt if it was their father instead, but it was no good, he was sure he’d still be as full of hate. It was almost like he was the problem here. Almost.

“I can’t! She’s just like… she’s like… a bad preacher!”

“Oh, stop it,” Hazel giggled.

It was true Marie Levesque weirdly sounded like a preacher when she was crying out about that stupid money of hers. Nico smiled.

“Just like a bad preacher! Gets on my nerves,” he raised his arms with his palms up in a _what can I do_ gesture and plopped them down again.

Their chuckling died away.

“Nico?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you staying home?”

He heard every question this one question contained – _are_ _you staying home tonight_ _a_ _re you staying home tomorrow_ _a_ _re you staying at all_ _i_ _s this home to you_ _–_ and chose to answer the only one he was able to.

“I guess I can sleep here tonight.”

Hazel smiled. It looked like some of the sadness clouding her beautiful golden eyes had well and truly dissolved. Nico felt like maybe he was useful for something, after all, and wasn’t the one to blame in the first place.

That evening he cooked for them. As they ate at the coffee table Hazel told him all about the _super meaningful!_ conversation she’d had with Frank that day and it felt like Marie Levesque had just been a bad dream all along.

His bed was set against the wall, under the window. When he lay on it he could easily look out on the side facade of a poorly-maintained building, similar to his, unsaturated colors just faintly showing in the ambient light of the tall street lamps, and next to it, a small, rectangular patch of night sky.

His body was warm and comfortable under his covers and his room was dimly lit by his bedside lamp.

Not that it was not pleasant to just lie in bed in silence, stare at a still setting and feel like the night would go on forever, but the hyperactivity itched at his brain eventually and compelled him to grab his sketchbook and pencil from next to his phone on his nightstand. He sat up in a rustle of covers, and pushed his knees up to set the sketchbook against his lap and flip through it.

It was pretty full and very messy.

There were pencil drawings of various animal skulls, some cool spots from the city, Hazel smiling, Hazel laughing, Hazel pouting, a page entirely covered in black scribbling.

He skipped a page because he knew what was on it and he didn’t want to look at it.

Some faceless figures, a jock-looking guy dressed in a trendy outfit Nico would never admit he found cool, another couple black pages, Bianca’s face as he remembered it, several doodles of a cat, plants.

He almost skipped another page but then thought there was no reason not to look at the unfinished sketch of young Greek man Will Solace, so he turned the page properly and forced himself to only glance at it like he did the other drawings, ignored the slight acceleration in his heart rate, and turned the page again at the same pace he’d been turning the others.

Cool graffiti, and then blank pages.

He picked up the grey pencil and started sketching the delicate features of a woman. Fifteen minutes into it he realized she looked like the girl he saw at Central Park, the one the blond guy, Will Solace, had kissed on the lips. For some reason he didn’t want to think too hard about, the drawing irritated him. He decided it was because his lines were not dynamic enough and turned the page.

The empty surface stared at him daringly for several minutes. Nico thought if he just jumped into it, surely something would come to him, so he drew a straight line. It was as inspiring as a single straight line on a blank page. He drew a curve. Nope. He noticed he could make a pattern out of it, and so he did, he began pairing straight lines with curvy lines, and they slowly turned into flowers.

His phone buzzed once on his nightstand. He ignored it and kept drawing.

After a minute of quiet pencil scratching his phone buzzed again. It disturbed him but he ignored it again.

The pattern repeated itself and the phone kept buzzing ever more frequently until it was practically continually vibrating.

“ _Je_ -sus Christ.”

Nico audibly sighed, grabbing the phone –which was definitely holding something against him, he decided– and turning the vibrations off before he was too tempted to hurl it across the room.

Unfamiliar notifications came flooding in. Intrigued and mildly worried, he clicked on one of them, which took him to a new group chat he’d been recently added to. The title read _PART_ _E_ _Y AT DREWS THIS WKND!1!_ and messages from unsaved numbers were flowing fast. He didn’t read any of them.

He went back to his conversations and saw there were also some notifications from his group chat with Jason and Percy, although far fewer.

  
  


_to: JASONS DISCO BALLS_

_from: Jase, 11:34PM_

_PLZ COME!!!!!_

_from: Percy, 11:34PM_

_nicoooo_

  
  


It’d be a lie to say he wasn’t happy they wanted him to go with them, especially somewhere they already had other friends. It’d also be a lie to say he wanted to go to that party.

  
  


_from: me, 11:40PM_

_I don’t know anybody_

_from: Percy, 11:40PM_

_thats the point. make new friends._

_from: Jase, 11:41PM_

_YEAH!!_

_from: me, 11:42PM_

_I already have friends_

_from: Jase, 11:42PM_

_well ur friends want YUO to come_

_from: Percy, 11:42PM_

_bitch_

_from: Jase, 11:42PM_

_plssssssssssssllsls wed be so happy_

  
  


He was just too weak.

_from: me, 11:44PM_

_I’ll think about it_

_from: Percy, 11:44PM_

_heheheh_

_from: Jase, 11:44PM_

_YES I KNe_

_from: Jase, 11:44PM_

_i knew ud say yes :))))_

_from: Percy, 11:45PM_

_dw well stay w you :)_

_from: me, 11:46PM_

_no shit? promise?_

_f rom: me, 11: 50 PM_

_promise right now._

_from: Percy, 11:50PM_

_promise on jasons sister_

_from: Jase, 11: 50PM_

_yeh yeah promis_

Well, if they stayed with him it should be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god this boy has ISSUES


	3. Hi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PARTY TIME BITCH

They did not stay with him.

At first he’d been having fun alright. That Saturday night the three of them had hung out at Percy’s place, may or may not have drunk a little bit, and then they’d showed up at Drew’s apartment, the ground floor of what looked like a rich people building to Nico. The facade was made of neat, large stones, and there was a fancy little round lantern on it, for fuck’s sake.

As soon as the door had opened Percy had crashed into a hug with some guy Nico had never seen and got dragged into the party, not to be seen again for the rest of the night.

Jason had lasted a little longer, but it hadn’t been much more honorable either. Nico pretty much followed him around for twenty minutes as he kept running into people he needed to say hi to – closest experience he could have to going to the supermarket with your mom– until they _finally_ reached the couch and hung out by themselves for a while before their conversation – and Jason’s cool looks too, probably– attracted more people and then somehow Jason wasn’t talking to him anymore and he got exiled from the couch _he_ had occupied first.

“Assholes,” he snapped under his breath, as he fetched a whole bottle of whatever he could find on the kitchen counter, deciding that was the only way he’d be able to hold a conversation with some college student he didn’t know. Oh yes, he was going to stay _._

That day he’d woken up so late he didn’t think he’d be able to get any sleep before at least noon the next day, which was perfect because that’s what Sundays were for. Going to sleep for the night at noon, correct.

So he was going to stay here to pass the time, but before he could talk to anyone he needed to drink. And for that he wanted to go somewhere less jampacked with drunk college students, so he began weaving his way across the living room, in search of the quiet release of the bedrooms area.

“Hey!” someone yelled behind him. If he had heard that over all the noise and music the person must have been somewhat close. It wasn’t addressed to him, though, he still didn’t know anyone here. And that wasn’t Percy’s or Jason’s voice.

“Hey!”

Maybe he’d turn around, just to be sure.

Or maybe he shouldn’t have.

Maybe walking up to him was the smiling blond subway guy along with some other boy. Maybe Nico was blushing right now and praying the guy didn’t remember him or anything he’d said to him or how he’d very precipitately left when they’d made eye contact outside the college two days ago.

Two days ago. He had kind of forgotten about him since then, considering his time had been entirely split between washing dishes, drawing, and avoiding Marie Levesque. That had surely been enough time for the guy to forget about him, too. Except Nico had just remembered everything in a split second, even his name, his name was Will Solace, and Will Solace had been the one to recognize him from behind in a crowded room and call him out. If this had been a coincidence, it was a damn shitty one.

“Hey!”

Nico winced.

_You already said that._

“What’s up?”

Nico didn’t answer but Will Solace had already turned to the guy standing next to him, his friend probably, who seemed uncomfortable, which he could sympathize with. “This is Cecil.”

“Hey,” Cecil said.

“Hello,” Nico said.

Will Solace grinned. Cecil looked shifty. Nico watched him say something in Will Solace’s ear. Will Solace nodded and replied with something else and Cecil left, quickly disappearing into the crowd. Then Will Solace looked at him again with that same goddamn smile and Nico could _swear I need to start drinking right the fuck now._

“What’s up?”

He’d already said that, too.

“You already said that, too.”

“What?"

“Nothing.”

Will Solace ignored that and kept smiling, which was _not_ helping Nico’s nerves.

“It’s nice to see you again. I didn’t think I would. You wanna go outside?”

“To fight?”

It didn’t sound so unlikely to Nico but Will Solace’s nice face looked perplexed. “Um, no, to hang out.” He paused for a second. “Yeah, I guess that came out wrong, didn’t it? Unless you do wanna fight, then I can try and take you on but I really don’t like fighting, so I’ll be pretty shit at it.”

“You’re right, I’d beat you. No need to even try.”

Will Solace let the smile return fully and flashed his teeth.

“Sweet. So you wanna go hang outside?”

His heart beating a little faster than normal, Nico followed him closely through the crowd, which honestly felt like Will Solace was Orpheus guiding him out of the underworld (and just like Eurydice he doubted he was getting out of this alive, although he wouldn’t mind it if Solace turned his gorgeous face back at him), to a discreet glass door in the kitchen that led out to the backyard. He hadn’t even noticed there was one, and must have not been the only one not to, because few people were there.

The backyard was a rectangular lawn delimited by brick walls adorned with fairy lights on the sides, and by nothing but the night sky above. Some light was pouring out from the glass kitchen door. It was so much quieter compared to the inside. Exactly the place Nico had been looking for.

Will Solace sat down on some garden chair, and Nico settled next to him on another, his bottle still in hand. The guy noticed.

“You were going to drink that all by yourself?”

Rude. Nico raised his never-failing defiant eyebrow, daring Solace to make any further comment.

“Yes?”

“Oh.”

“What? You think it’s too much for me to handle?”

He’d meant for that to be provocative, of course, but the guy didn’t look all that provoked.

“No, I just thought we could share. Although I wouldn’t recommend drinking it by yourself either. Well, I guess sharing would solve that too.” Then he added hurriedly, “I mean it’s totally fine if you don’t want to, of course, I can just go get my own drink. I just, uh, forgot to grab something.”

Now Nico felt embarrassed for immediately feeling attacked and reacting aggressively.

“Sure, sorry.” He handed him the bottle.

“Thanks.”

Will Solace tilted his head back to take a sip. Nico stared at his neck. Part of him wanted to kick himself for it. But when he was finished he handed the bottle back and stuck his tongue out in a terrible wince, and Nico figured he should say something before he burst out laughing at his face.

“So you go to college here?”

The guy tried to talk properly, not without some struggling. Nico bit his lips to stop himself from cracking up.

“Yeah. You know Percy?” Will Solace asked as it seemed he’d finally managed to take in the alcohol’s burn.

“Seems so.”

Usually Nico would have stopped at that for his personal talk. He wasn’t one to spill about himself. This guy hadn’t even asked that much, yet he effortlessly got him to utter more than one sentence on something he didn’t need to know about him. “Not from college, though. I’ve known him for some time.”

“Like childhood friends?”

"You can call it that.”

“That’s nice,” Will Solace smiled, and Nico thought he saw something like sadness skim across his face. When he tried to find it again it wasn’t there anymore. But he was sure he saw it (the guy held out his hand again and Nico gave him the bottle) because it had been similar to his expression from when he was crying that other night. He began to take a sip that was lasting longer than the first one.

“Hey,” Nico said.

The guy kept the rim of the bottle on his mouth for a few more seconds. This time his wince was more subtle and less funny when he pulled the drink away from his lips. Nico ignored how he licked them and went on:

“I’m sorry. About the other night.”

Will Solace sighed. “Don’t worry about that. I was… feeling a bit down, I guess.” He pressed his lips into a thin line.

Feeling a bit down? He’d been fucking sobbing.

“Right. But I meant, when I told you to piss off.”

This time he chuckled, and it was warm and pleasant, and did something to Nico’s stomach. “Oh, that. Yeah, that _was_ mean.” For some reason it amused him. Will Solace was a mystery.

“Sorry.”

“It’s cool,” he shook his head, making his honey blonde hair catch the subtle glow of the fairy lights. “I don’t even know how I got uptown. It was late, I was tired. Maybe you were too. I’m sorry if you thought I was weird or scary or something, you looked confused. We were both just a mess, weren’t we?”

The smile he gave him made it feel like he’d just told him a secret.

“We were,” Nico said. He was okay with being included in the mess in question if Will Solace was in it too. Will Solace who was taking none of his shit and holding nothing against him. He was a cool guy. How could _he_ have thought Nico thought he was weird?

“Besides, you really helped me. There I am, I get on the first train I see and _pow!_ ” an invisible jolt of electricity shook him and he opened wide eyes, and Nico almost laughed but managed to only snort, “you appeared like a miracle, like, uh, like a subway angel, and I don’t think I even believe in God. I mean, for an angel like you, I would believe in God.” Nico frowned in pure confusion, not knowing if he should be flattered or just amazed at how stupid this was. Will Solace just kept going. “I mean, uh… What I mean is that I was _completely_ friggen’ lost,” he swept through the air with the bottle in his hand, “I have no idea what I’d have done without you. Thanks again. I moved here last summer, but to be honest I still feel so lost all the time.”

“Yeah, me too,” Nico found himself saying.

“You’re not from here either?”

“No, I am. Well, I’ve lived here long enough anyway. Sometimes I just feel lost in general. You know.”

Why was he sharing this with him? He’d only tell Jason or Hazel something like this. He would hardly tell Percy. For some reason he felt comfortable telling Will Solace. _This is dangerous_ , something told Nico.

But Will Solace just nodded.

“Yeah, I know,” he said. Then his gaze got kind of lost and Nico noticed how the soft lighting was brushing over his face and glimmering in his eyes, which were blue, and that there was a dust of pink glittery makeup over his eyelids and that his hair was actually pretty messy, and the something that had warned him about some kind of danger was already irrelevant and forgotten, replaced by a lightness in his chest.

“Hey, weren’t you planning to ingest all this crap? And I’m the only one drinking here.”

“You want me to drink?”

“Mmh, I wouldn’t put it like that.” Will Solace pressed a finger over his lower lip and squinted. “I want to share a lovely moment with you over a nice beverage,” he corrected, smiling once more. “I thought you wanted to. Please? I’d feel less lonely.” He pouted. He _pouted._ And his facial expressions definitely changed too quickly, Nico decided.

“No,” he said, more in response to the general phrasing of it all than to the actual content.

“Oh. Sorry. Is it because you’re nervous about getting drunk?”

Now, Nico took it as a personal offense that something about him should make him think that. He also needed to ask him what it was so he could change it immediately. He was _not_ nervous, and certainly not about something as stupid. Forget what he’d said about the mystery, Will Solace was not a mystery, he was an annoyance.

“I’m fucking not,” he snapped.

Will Solace didn’t flinch. “It’s okay, I was joking about being lonely. You don’t have to drink anything for us to have a good chat anyway.”

This guy was irritating.

“Give me this."

“You don’t need to impress me.”

And a self-complacent idiot.

“I’m demonstrating my superiority.”

“By drinking? You bet. No, I’m not letting you do that, not if it makes you feel nervous.”

And fucking stubborn.

“Give me the fucking bottle.”

Will Solace looked like he was going to protest and Nico was ready to snap at him again, but surprisingly, he handed the bottle over, although hesitantly, and with a confused look. Nico shot him a glare and took it with a bit more force than necessary. Hell, he was mad. He boldly looked Will Solace in the eyes as he brought the bottle to his lips, and in the heat of his intensifying frustration, he said:

“I’m going to drink _all_ of this.”

Will Solace made a weird face, between confusion and amusement. Nico wanted to die. God, he sounded so stupid. Jason and Percy were rubbing off on him. But like he promised, he titled his head back and began gulping the alcohol down, to save the last remaining bits of dignity he had left, or so he thought he was doing. As soon as the liquid filled his mouth he shut his eyes and when it reached his throat and burned it he focused on just swallowing. Meanwhile he could hear Will Solace going _ooooh!_ next to him. At least someone was having fun in this. When his head was practically thrown back and he reached the last ounces he suddenly knew it was too much. _Shit._ He choked and alcohol drizzled all over his sweatshirt and pants.

“Oh, shit, dude,” Will Solace laughed.

Nico couldn’t help but laugh too, at himself, at this whole situation, with Will Solace’s contagious laughter, which would have felt nice, if only it wasn’t making him choke even harder, but it was, and he got caught in the vicious circle of coughing and laughing and choking.

Solace reached out to him, to help him get out of it probably, but even through his coughing fit a red alarm went off in Nico’s head at the dangerously approaching physical contact. He tried to back off instinctively, and in an impressive display of Newton’s law of gravity he fell off his chair onto the grass.

“Oh, shit,” Will Solace repeated, not laughing anymore, and Nico heard him coming towards him. He sat up as quickly as he could before the guy would touch him.

“No, don’t move. Any shooting pain? Do you feel like you’re going to throw up?”

“No, but my butt hurts,” Nico complained with a wince. His butt did hurt. At least he wasn’t choking anymore. As he looked up he saw Will Solace kneeling next to him. He was wearing a big sweatshirt that said _KEEP AUSTIN WEIRD,_ tucked into high-waisted jeans with the hems cuffed over socks that had little suns matching his yellow converse shoes. Unable to form any clear opinion about this outfit, Nico looked back up at his face. It had gone serious. His brain –or maybe something lower– told him that was sort of hot, and he wanted to kick himself in the fucking crotch.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause if not you really need to tell me.”

“I’m sure, get off.”

The guy sighed and stood up, extending a hand down at him, which he ignored as he got back up on his own. They sat on the chairs again. Nico wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh at himself or just straight up melt into the ground.

“Okay, you were not bad,” Will Solace said after a second. Never mind, now he was angry again.

“ _Not_ _bad_? I drank half that bottle.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, like a last bit of laughter he needed to let out. The _gut_.

“Because _you_ were able to take one single sip without wincing like a little bitch."

Will Solace just shrugged. “Nah, I was faking to make you laugh.”

“You _weren’t_.”

“Okay, I wasn’t. But I did make you laugh,” he grinned.

Nico hated that Solace didn’t react to his aggressiveness. He hated that he had noticed he was trying not to laugh, earlier. He hated that he’d given him the satisfaction of making him laugh. And above all, he hated that despite all his efforts he couldn’t bring himself to be genuinely mad.The alcohol was starting to get sticky on his hands and clothes.

“Whatever. I’m gonna go get cleaned.”

“Oh, right, you probably should do that,” Will Solace said like he’d been zoning out and just came out of it. “I’m just gonna wait here. You’re coming back, aren’t you?” he asked with sudden worry, flecks of hope obviously tinting his voice.

Hope. Directed at him, Nico di fucking Angelo.

“Sure.”

He made himself stand up.

“Sweet,” Will Solace said. “I’ll be waiting then.” He was looking up at him, with that boyish smile again, and those stupid blue eyes and freckled nose and curly ruffled hair and ugly sweatshirt that let the dip between his collar bones show, and everybody probably liked him _so much_ and yet he was still talking to Nico–

“Hey, what’s your name?”

His brain took a second to register the question. That was funny, he could’ve sworn he had told him his name.

“Nico.”

“Nico. Hi. I’m Will.”

Right, he wasn’t supposed to know.

“Hi,” he said.

Will smiled.

“Hi.”

Nico wished they could just look at each other and say _hi_ forever. It took so much of him to turn around and walk away.

He looked at himself in the mirror of the empty bathroom, his pale skin, black hair, tired eyes, and eyebrows that looked constantly angry,water hastily spilled and mindlessly rubbed on his clothes.

Something wasn’t clicking. _Nothing_ was clicking.

First he’d been careless and _so fucking stupid_ and Will had been joyful and considerate. And then they’d bickered, which he was pretty sure was not a good sign when talking to someone for the first time –his people skills weren’t that off, right?– but for some reason Will Solace wanted him to come back, and for some even more obscure reason, he wanted to go back. And what was up with that angel comment?

He narrowed his eyes at his reflection, as if squinting was going to help him better see what about him had made Will act that way. Pale skin. Black hair. Tired eyes. Eyebrows that still looked angry.

He sighed and let his head drop, pressing his hands on the sink to support himself. This was no use. He better go just back, he’d figure this out later. As he turned to the door the knob moved before he could touch it.

“Baby, just wait a little bit, _please,_ ” a girl’s voice breathed out.

“Relax, he’s outside.”

The door opened and in stumbled a girl and a guy who were practically glued to each other more or less all over.

 _Ugh_ _,_ Nico thought. _Get the hell out of here,_ his brain agreed.

The girl and guy both froze and looked at him, still holding each other way too closely for what Nico deemed was appropriate for him to see, and the girl didn’t seem to particularly care, but the guy opened wide eyes and the name Cecil popped back up in Nico’s mind.

“Uh, sorry,” Nico said.

He hurried out and slammed the door behind him.

Then an image of the girl’s face materialized in his mind.

Then he realized.

That girl, she was the same girl he’d seen at Central Park. She was the girl Will had kissed. Oh.

Oh no. This was bad, this was really, really bad. Was it any of his business, though? No, it wasn’t. He should just forget he saw this, yes, that’s what he ought to do.

As he was lost in unpleasant thought he made his way back to the living room and halfway through, the half a bottle of alcohol hit, and his head started to hurt and feel heavy and he could sense he wasn’t walking straight anymore. He winced and lowered his eyes at the floor.

“Nico!”

He looked back up to see Will Solace coming towards him once again. Oh no. No, no, no.

“You were gone for a while, I thought I’d check on you– dude, you’re practically drenched, you’re gonna catch a cold. I can give you my sweater if you want, I still have my coat, uh, somewhere.” Nico just stumbled. Will chuckled. “Here, take my arm, I’ll lead you back.”

He wanted to do what he was told, he wanted to so bad. His head was a mess, and he didn’t mind relying on Will Solace, right now maybe he needed it. But all he managed was to shoot him what probably came across as a panicked look.

“Shit, are you alright? Did something happen?”

Will’s eyes shifted so quick and now they were just so filled with worry and concern, and so painfully fucking blue. Flashes of Cecil and that girl in the bathroom shot back to Nico’s mind. He couldn’t take any of Will’s attention. He couldn’t even hold his stare, not now.

“I'm sorry,” was all he managed to let out, without really knowing what he was sorry for. _Sorry I made you think I was worth your time, sorry I acted like a bitch, sorry I'm not telling you you're getting cheated on, I'm sorry you are getting cheated on_.

He took two steps back, and in a second the crowd and noise had already closed on Will. Leaving him behind had decidedly become a habit of Nico’s.

Somehow he got out of the apartment, and out the building. The crisp night air flurried some clarity back into his head as his body tensed uncomfortably with a shudder from the cold. Then he realized he’d stopped, so he moved. He walked as fast as he could, but he felt so slow, so slow. The street was too calm, and endless, and his nose was runny, and the clouds of mist he was puffing out annoyed him. The water he’d dripped all over his sweatshirt had soaked through his shirt and was sticking to his skin and it was fucking _cold._

His night was thoroughly ruined and it was –he took a glance at his phone– _not even two AM yet_ and now he’d have to spend the night alone again but he didn’t want to, he wanted to be with Will Solace, but Will Solace wasn’t going to appear in the subway again, he was at a stupid party getting cheated on by his stupid girlfriend with his even more stupid friend, and oh, Nico really needed to stop thinking about this, it wasn’t his fucking problem all of these people were so fucking stupid after all.

He reached Court Square Station and waited for a train to arrive and each time he glanced at the clock it said one minute had passed but he could swear it was at least five. He’d never have thought he’d be so satisfied to get on an F train. He sat down and at that moment, staring out the window at the city lights and the spots they chose to show him through the dense soot of the night seemed like the greatest joy he could ever experience.

Suddenly the train entered the underground again and the other side of the window turned pitch black. Nico was faced with the ghastly reflection of tired eyes and angry eyebrows, and he shut his eyes in double-quick time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> does will read as bi enough or should i make him listen to patd too
> 
> (yeah yeah there still is this one line from BoO pls be understanding, their canon interactions r perfect and my dialogues r shitty)


End file.
